How I swapped the loneliness of the cross-country runner for the cosiness of the club

A move to Hay-on-Wye transformed me from a lone urban to a solitary rural runner. But getting over scepticism to join the local club has been a revelation

“New shoes, eh?” the man said to me in a knowing tone. “So, what’s the tread? Let’s have a look.” I’d just joined the local running club. “Tread?” I thought. “What’s ‘tread’?” Back then, my shoe knowledge was farcical. The week before, I had gone online, found a random website selling running gear, clicked on the “sale” tab, picked a pair my size and pressed “buy”. “Tread?” All I knew was that, even at 30% off, they were still the most expensive pair of trainers I’d ever bought.

I have run casually all my adult life. A few laps of the park in the evening. Maybe a longer run on a weekend. Nothing serious. Certainly not serious enough to invest in any proper kit. Then I moved to a village just outside the Welsh border town of Hay-on-Wye and everything changed. Nestled in the lee of the Black Mountains, the Radnorshire hills at my back, the River Wye at my feet, the landscape seemed to scream “Run!” I heeded its call.

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from Health & wellbeing | The Guardian http://ift.tt/1WS51dr
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